


Where the Ragged People Go

by stuffy_j



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Canon Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Minor Injuries, Musical Instruments, Omnic Crisis, Overuse of a musical motif, Piano Sex, Post-Fall of Overwatch, R76 Reverse Bang 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-31 06:10:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12675978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuffy_j/pseuds/stuffy_j
Summary: The piano felt strange under his hands, like the tips of his fingers were no longer completely connected to his nervous system; like parts of his hands were playing a melody he wasn’t telling them to play. His eyes kept straying to the guitar in its stand against the wall next to the piano. The room felt both empty and too small all at once.“Jack,” Gabriel said behind him.





	Where the Ragged People Go

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, I'm not dead!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this RBB fic--it was so much fun to write, and I was so lucky to be paired with someone who is not only an amazing artist but also an amazing and talented friend, [Shanablackrx](https://shanablackrx.tumblr.com)!!!! Go check out their art, they are so wonderful and I was so blessed to be able to work with them during this whole thing! Shana, I hope you like the fic!
> 
> I also made a short playlist that I listened to a lot while writing this, if you'd like to take a listen, feel free! [Here it is!](https://open.spotify.com/user/vlpvjaauyygviuv6kntbs50mq/playlist/5aDcB6N4VdGwAlAYJWnz3A)
> 
> And thank you so much to Kasi for being such an amazing and supportive friend throughout this whole process, and for providing her fantastic beta service, as well as providing the title for this fic!!! Go check out her writing at [here!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foldingcranes/pseuds/foldingcranes)
> 
> If you want to come yell at me about various R76-related things, you can find me on tumblr at [edgedadhell](https://edgedadhell.tumblr.com) or on [twitter](https://twitter.com/stuffy_jj).
> 
> Hope you all enjoy, and I would love to know what you think! <3

The room was dark and dusty, lit only by a single shaft of sunlight that speared through the thin window slit near the ceiling. It wasn’t much, but the soldier had no problem seeing through the darkness, everything colored a faint red through his visor as he swept the room, clearing it before stepping inside. Sighing, he let the heavy pulse rifle droop in his grip, coughing slightly as some of the dust clogged the filters of his mask before it adjusted to the new environment. The dust kept his footsteps silent as he moved cautiously, though he knew that no one had (conceivably) been here in years. At least, that was the story the thick blanket of gray over everything told.

This had always been one of the smaller, more out of the way bases, and Winston had yet to turn his attention this way while he was dealing with the recall. The rest of the base had been the same as this room--dark, dusty, unused, abandoned. The soldier knew there was important information still stored here, deep in the Overwatch archives and difficult to get to, and he was surprised no one had thought to ransack this place yet. Small miracles, he supposed, eyes sweeping the room.

It would be an even smaller miracle, but the soldier had seen his fair share of those over the past few years. And he was right; the piano was still there, pushed into an even darker corner of the room and covered by a thick blanket that had partially slipped off. But it still looked to be in good condition, a little worse for wear, but what part of the world wasn’t these days?

The soldier dragged the piano out of its corner, pushing the cover off and turning his head away as a cloud of dust rose from the ground. The cover lifted off the keys with a harsh creak, metal joints squealing after years of neglect. But the keys were undamaged, still smudged with the marks of dirty fingerprints in places that the soldier still remembered, could feel the smooth dip under his fingertips even though he hadn’t touched this in years.

He dragged the bench over, sat down heavily and waited for yet more dust to die down before slowly, hesitantly removing the visor, allowing the room to fade from his sight. Shadows eddied and swirled in his vision, the outline of the piano before him seeming to fade into the darkness as well. The soldier sighed, dragged a hand down his bare face as he slumped in front of the piano. His other hand trembling slightly, he took the glove off his right hand, pressed lightly on the ivory.

Nothing.

The soldier cursed under his breath. What was the point? He could barely see, could barely hear. There was nothing left for him, nothing left hidden in the husk of this piano. At best, it was out of tune; at worst, broken irreparably. “If this is a metaphor, it’s a pretty shitty one,” he growled to the empty room, resting a hand heavily on the lid of the piano.

God, being back in this room brought back too many memories. He needed to leave, but instead the soldier hunched over the keys once more, one hand picking its way across notes half-remembered, guided only by muscle memory, the melody soft in his head but faint in his ears. 

He hummed instead, the vibrations mimicking the song as his fingers clumsily pressed the keys he knew by heart. Closing his eyes, the soldier sighed, lips soundlessly forming words as the song came back to him.

\---------------

Jack slipped through the door of the practice room, the ache between his shoulder blades more pronounced than usual. He had stitches in his side, a distant pain that he couldn’t feel quite yet, on the periphery of his awareness as the drugs the medics had given him worked their magic for now. 

It was quiet over in this part of the base, more out of the way than anything else. Jack had begged off a poker tournament with the other soldiers for this, knowing that the raucous laughter, the forced attempts at cheeriness and fun would do nothing but enlarge the knot in his back, the stress he held in the line of his shoulders. Today had been...less than optimal, performance-wise, from all of them, and Jack was looking forward to working out the stress and pain and horror in his own way.

Or he was, until he realized someone was already occupying the room, their back to the door and the neck of a guitar held confidently in their hand.

Soft chords played across the space, the ending strains of  _ something _ Jack recognized on the edges of his memory slipping into the still, quiet air between Jack and the musician. Softer words accompanied the melody, meditative and husky in the singer’s voice. Jack caught the final lines of the song, a faint, “I am leaving, I am leaving,” ringing in his ears. He closed his eyes, smiling to himself. “The Boxer.” One of his mother’s favorite songs; Jack hadn’t heard it in years.

“That sounded great,” Jack said into the fading echo of sound between them as the song ended. The musician startled, drawing a discordant twang from the guitar as they accidentally strummed the wrong strings. “Ah, shit, sorry!” Jack quickly said, holding up his hands in apology. “I just wanted to say, I haven’t heard that song in years, and you play it--” he babbled, cutting off quickly as Gabriel Reyes turned to face him.

“Oh--” Gabriel said, a faint flush suffusing his cheeks as he started to put the guitar down carefully. “Sorry, didn’t realize someone wanted to use this place other than me, I’ll get out of your way.”

Jack’s eyes widened. “Hey, no, it’s okay! I just wanted to say that you play that song really well, or at least the little bit I heard of it. I didn’t realize you knew how to play the guitar!”

He could tell Gabriel was still tense, maybe a little embarrassed even. “Well, thanks,” Gabriel said, rubbing the back of his neck, still holding the guitar in one hand. “Yeah, I’ve played since I was pretty young, but I’m a little rusty at the moment because of, you know, all this happening.” Jack could see the top of his own line of stitches peeking out from a bandage on the side of Gabriel’s face. Both of them knew worse was to come.

“We should play together sometime,” Jack suddenly blurted, and tried to fight the blush that threatened to creep up his neck. There was no going back now. “Like I said, you sound amazing, and I’ve been wanting to brush up on my piano skills, so I think it’d be fun to, you know, just mess around a little. Of course, I also completely understand if you want to practice alone instead, that’s fine. But, uh, that song you were playing just now? One of my favorites, and I’d really enjoy playing with you I think.”

Gabriel’s eyebrows had risen to the top of his head by the time Jack managed to shut his mouth, looking both bewildered and a little skeptical at the sudden flood of words. Jack’s palms started to sweat and he began cursing every decision he’d ever made in his life to bring him to this specific point.

“You play piano?” Gabriel asked.

The question shook Jack out of his spiral. “Yeah,” he replied, “Same story as you, honestly. My parents made me take lessons when I was younger, now I mostly play for fun.” He shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets. “I couldn’t be around everyone else after--after today. So I came down here to try to play a bit, maybe clear my head.”

Gabriel nodded, his eyes dark and pensive as he looked at Jack. “Makes sense,” he said, before glancing around the small room. “Well, come on,” he grinned, nodding at the shape of the piano pushed into the corner. “I want to hear you before I agree to any jam sessions.”

Jack grinned back, face lighting up as he pulled the dust cover off the small piano. The polished wood was only slightly smudged, a few scratches on the key cover showing its age. Jack sat down in front of it, looking back at Gabriel over his shoulder. Fortunately, both of them still had plenty of room even though the small room was crowded with a few other instruments.

“I hope this thing’s in tune,” Jack said as he turned back to the keys. A quick scale confirmed that most, if not all of the keys were fine, and he couldn’t help but add a slight flourish at the end, watching Gabriel from his periphery. The other man was sitting again, but backwards in the chair, arms resting on top of the seatback and guitar leaning against the wall next to him. Stretching his fingers, Jack launched into a simple warm-up routine, familiarizing himself with the nuances and subtleties of this particular piano.

“Any requests?” he asked Gabriel, who just shook his head. “Okay,” Jack said, taking a deep breath and easing himself into the opening strains of “The Boxer.”

He heard Gabriel draw in a small breath behind him, but concentrated on the notes instead, drawing deep within himself for the memory of his mother’s voice singing along, one hand dancing over the white and black keys to bring out the plaintive melody. Jack hummed lowly, trying to keep the notes in his head--it had been  _ so long _ since he had last played this song, pushed to the back of his mind by all the responsibilities he’d taken on since then, all the missed holidays and tearful phone calls as he’d apologized for not coming home yet again. All the promises he kept having to break.

He hit a wrong note as the twang of the guitar joined him, nearly dropped the song entirely, but Jack found the chords again, smiled to himself as he heard Gabriel join in partway through the song. Once again, Gabriel’s soft voice filled the room, clear and strong as he sang. It was...it was powerful, made the flesh on Jack’s arms prickle with excitement combined with something heavy in his chest as their instruments twined around each other. Gabriel’s voice complimented the instruments perfectly, and Jack could hear the concentration in it, the focus as Gabriel coaxed the song from the guitar in his hands as well. Jack tried to think of the last time he had felt anything close to this: he couldn’t remember. 

As they approached the end of the song, Jack became a little bolder, letting his low voice join Gabriel’s in harmony every once in awhile. He wasn’t that great a singer, voice a little too gravelly to really be worth listening to, but he liked the way he sounded with Gabriel--dusky and a little dry beneath Gabriel’s own smoother tones. Jack focused on the way his tongue rolled in his mouth during the refrain, leaning in slightly to the keys as Gabriel picked his way across the skipping notes of the melody, getting softer and louder at Gabriel’s unconscious direction, Jack the steady beat beneath it all. 

The final notes faded from the room as first Jack, then Gabriel stopped playing, the thrum of the guitar hanging in the air for a few moments before slipping from existence. Jack turned around on the piano bench, staring at Gabriel, whose eyes were closed, with a small, crooked smile on his face. “Do I make the cut?” he asked teasingly as Gabriel opened his eyes and smiled back at Jack. 

“I suppose you’ll do,” Gabriel said, leaning the guitar against the wall behind him and standing up. Jack stood as well, took Gabriel’s offered hand and shook it firmly. 

“Let me know when you want to play again,” Jack said. “I thought we sounded pretty good.”

“Well, we won’t be going to Carnegie Hall anytime soon,” Gabriel laughed, “But I thought so too.”

\----------------------

The next time they played, Jack had just been released from a three-day stay in the medbay with strict orders to remain in bed for the next few days as well. He  _ almost  _ felt bad about sneaking down to the practice room--the nurse who had given him his discharge orders had been very clear about what he was expected to do and not do, and most of it involved laying very still and trying not to aggravate the various stitches and bandages beneath his clothes. But the knot was back in his shoulders again, and his fingers itched to feel smooth ivory beneath them once again.

(He also kept dreaming about Gabriel’s voice, the way it rose and fell with the emotion of the music--Jack wanted to hear that again, but he wasn’t sure how to go about asking Gabriel to play with him again. Sure they had become pretty good friends, supporting each other through training and missions, playing poker and eating in the mess hall together. But Jack wasn’t sure how to say, “Hey, I really like the way we fit together when we play, and your voice is amazing. Want to sing for me again sometime soon?” without Gabriel running in the opposite direction.)

Jack dragged himself down the corridor, still-bloody bandages wrapped up and around his shoulders and collarbone from where the Bastion unit had gotten a few well-placed shots in. The door to the practice room was open, the strumming of a guitar drifting out into the hallway, and Jack grinned, forced himself to limp a little faster to the doorway. Just as he expected, Gabriel sat inside, back to the door again, head bowed to the guitar as he coaxed run after run of quick, staccato notes from its strings. They sounded anxious somehow, jumpy and discordant, setting Jack’s teeth on edge.

Finally he couldn’t take it anymore. “Hey, Gabe,” he said, knocking lightly on the doorframe to get the other man’s attention. “You want to play?”

Gabriel jolted, head whipping around as he stumbled out of his chair, placing the guitar down gently before he crossed the few paces between them, throwing his arms around Jack and crushing them together. “Holy shit, Jack!” he exclaimed, “Fuck, when I saw you go down out there--” Gabriel cut himself off, burying his face in Jack’s shoulder instead.

Jack groaned in Gabriel’s tight grip, pain shooting through his ribs and arms as he was held. “Gabe,” he wheezed, patting Gabriel’s back as best he could, “I’m okay. But if you don’t loosen up, you’re gonna pop a stitch.”

Gabriel immediately released Jack, stepping back with an apologetic look on his face. Jack instantly regretted his words, wanting nothing more than for Gabriel to hug him once again, but he schooled his face into a smile. He noticed a few small cuts on Gabriel’s face, most likely from shrapnel, not bandaged but clean and clear of blood. They would likely heal by tonight thanks to their increased healing factor. 

“Ah, shit, sorry,” Gabriel said, looking sheepish. “I should’ve realized. How’re you feeling?”

“You know how it is, got a bit torn up but the doctors say I should be back to baseline in a day or two. I’ve had worse, anyway.” He chuckled and tried not to wince at the pain in his ribs.

Gabriel did not look impressed. “Jack. You were in medbay for  _ three days _ . The last time that happened was before any of the enhancements started and you broke your wrist. And, you were in surgery for five hours. I asked.” Gabriel’s hands clenched into fists at his side and he looked away from Jack, face tight with some emotion Jack couldn’t decipher, but his heart lurched into his throat all the same.

“Hey, I’m fine,” he tried to say, but Gabriel turned back, brows drawn and eyes sparking.

“You have to be more careful out there, Jack! I—we’ve already lost too many good people to this war. And you’re the best friend I have in this place,” Gabriel said, anger fading from his voice as he kept talking. “I know we both signed up for this knowing the risks, but there’s just so much left to do. And I don’t know if I can do it without you.”

Jack stepped forward, closing the door to the practice room behind him. Gabriel didn’t move, kept looking at him like Jack might disappear if he so much as blinked. “I can’t promise to be more careful, Gabe,” Jack said, voice strained. He put a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder. “I know it hurts to lose people, but like you said, we both know the risks we have to deal with every day. And if that means that more people out there get to live? Then that’s not such a bad trade-off to me.” Jack’s eyes flickered to the piano pushed into the corner before looking back into Gabriel’s eyes. “Still want to play?” he asked quietly.

Gabriel looked like he was about to argue, but something seemed to shift behind his eyes, and he sighed instead. “Yeah,” he said, picking up the guitar again. “That sounds good, it’s been a while.”

A little confused, Jack pasted a smile on his face and pulled out the piano bench. Sitting down, he ran his fingers up and down the keys, ending with a small flourish that pulled a faint grin out of Gabriel. “Alright,” Jack said, “You start.”

The beginning stanzas of “The Boxer” filled the practice room.

\--------------------------

The war was ending.

It was clear from all sides that the omnics were going to lose; it was only a matter of time before the final God Program was shut down and the remaining bots would have to surrender. They knew they were trapped, and so they were fighting even harder, nothing to lose but everything to gain if they could turn the tide. 

It made the battles deadlier, fights that left the dead in smoking craters and bombed-out metal husks, towns that had been long abandoned reduced to rubble as the omnics sought to burn as much of the world as they could before they were forced back. 

Jack shivered in the cold Detroit air as explosions continued to ring through the night sky, looking up at the stars that managed to shine through the fire and smoke choking the area. Gabriel shifted, mumbled in his arms, and Jack tried to shush him quietly, listening carefully for the shaking footsteps or tank-tread of Bastion units in the area.

The wound on Gabriel’s head wasn’t bad, but it was bleeding profusely, and combined with the three (or more) bullets that Jack knew were lodged in his shoulder and the broken leg, Gabriel wasn’t moving anytime soon. They had been separated by a coordinated Bastion attack, three of them flanking the company they were with and launching ballistics that they just managed to avoid. Jack had watched as Gabriel was thrown backwards, covering his face from shrapnel as dirt exploded all around them, before simultaneously hitting his head and breaking his leg on the uneven rubble. Everyone scrambled to take evasive maneuvers, except Jack.

He refused to leave Gabriel behind.

The pulse rifle secure and heavy in his grasp, Jack had sprinted at one of the Bastions, leaping on to its bulky frame and smashing the wiring panel on the side of its head in, ripping out several of the wires that he knew were connected to its main control panel. The unit shuddered in his grasp, suddenly falling to the ground before righting itself and opening a hail of bullets across the battlefield, unheeding of friend or foe in its path. The prototype helix rockets in Jack’s rifle took out another Bastion, and the third was quickly mown down by its fellow’s bulletstorm. A few well-placed shots to its wildly swinging head had the remaining Bastion stuttering to a halt, the red light of its camera fading to darkness as it died. 

Jack had scrambled over to Gabriel as quickly as possible, heart beating faster than he’d ever felt as he took in the state of his best friend. “Gabe, please,” he breathed brokenly, searching for a pulse, “Come on, don’t do this to me, if you can’t do this without me then I can’t do it without you, come on, fuck!” 

Finally, finally, Jack found the weak beat of Gabriel’s heart, heard the rattling of breath in his lungs as Gabriel’s eyes slitted open, staring at Jack uncomprehendingly.

“Ja-ck?” Gabriel asked, voice thick with pain, blood running down his forehead. Jack wanted to cry in relief, but he knew they weren’t out of the woods yet.

“God, Gabe, you asshole,” he said instead, wiping some of the blood out of Gabriel’s eyes. “Come on, we gotta try to get out of here, I don’t know where everybody else is, and you’re sure as hell not going to be any help.” He began to hoist Gabriel up, hoping against hope that the other man was in shock and unable to feel the immense pain he was most likely in.

“Y’r…asshole,” Gabriel slurred, and Jack chuckled.

“Say that to me again when we’re out of here.”

He hid them as best he could, tucked into the somewhat sheltered opening of a destroyed house’s cellar. At this point not much more than a hole in the ground, Jack tucked Gabriel’s body against his, gritting his teeth as night fell and the winter winds of Detroit swept across the ground. The smoke cleared somewhat, revealing the deep black of the night sky in patches. Jack looked up, watching the stars as they blinked in and out of existence while smoke curled and eddied above them. He turned Gabriel’s face into his neck, trying to keep him warm as best he could, not minding the warm wetness of the blood from Gabriel’s head that smeared across his own skin. Gabriel’s breaths were weak but warm against his neck, and Jack focused on his own breathing, closing his eyes as he listened for any incoming threats.

Gabriel shifted against him, groaning in pain, and Jack absentmindedly stroked the back of his head as he strained to look over the lip of the cellar to see if anything had heard them. “Just gotta get through tonight,” he whispered, trying to settle Gabriel again. “Someone will come find us in the morning; just have to stay calm.”

As the night wore on, Gabriel kept shifting more and more as the shock left his system and the pain set in. He still seemed out of it, groaning and muttering as they huddled together. Eventually he started to pant slightly against Jack’s neck, the pain deepening within his body as the cold took hold of them, burrowing into both Jack and Gabriel’s bones. Try as he might, Jack couldn’t get Gabriel to calm down again--and he could still hear explosions.

Finally, desperate for anything that would help calm Gabriel down, Jack hummed a couple of notes from “The Boxer.” Gabriel immediately seemed to settle, at least just a bit, focusing on Jack’s voice instead of everything else. “I guess this is as good a way to help me stay awake as any,” Jack chuckled quietly, shifting slightly against the cold wall at his back. “Alright, let’s do this.”

When the sun came up the next morning, the search and rescue team found them half-frozen but alive, Jack’s voice nearly gone from humming all night long.

\--------------------------

Jack was already in the practice room when Gabriel arrived, limping in his leg brace, bandages around his ribs and head, but alive. It had been nearly a week since Jack had been discharged from the medbay, nearly two weeks since their night in Detroit. They hadn’t been able to talk since that night; Gabriel had been in critical condition by the time the search party found them, and Jack was suffering from a pretty severe case of hypothermia that had nearly taken a couple of fingers. The piano felt strange under his hands, like the tips of his fingers were no longer completely connected to his nervous system; like parts of his hands were playing a melody he wasn’t telling them to play. His eyes kept straying to the guitar in its stand against the wall next to the piano. The room felt both empty and too small all at once.

“Jack,” Gabriel said behind him.

Jack startled badly, a discordant crash coming from the piano as he whipped around to look at Gabriel, standing limned in light in the doorway. He looked--he looked tired, but there was a faint smile on his lips and his face had been washed and beard groomed. Jack thought he had never looked so beautiful as in that moment.

“Gabe,” Jack said helplessly, stepping in front of him, wanting to hug him so badly but worried that he would somehow hurt him. God, he had never seen Gabriel so vulnerable before Detroit, could barely believe they had both survived that. “Fuck, Gabe, you absolute asshole!”

Gabriel frowned, opening his mouth to no doubt say something in response, but Jack couldn’t stop himself.

He leaned in and kissed Gabriel.

And immediately panicked and started to draw back, an apology already on his tongue as his cheeks flared red, but Gabriel’s hands came up and caught Jack’s face, bringing him back into the kiss, angling Jack’s face so they could kiss properly, Gabriel’s beard rough and scratchy and  _ amazing _ against Jack’s skin. His lips were chapped but Jack didn’t care, bringing his own hands up and around Gabriel’s back, holding them together in a way that was similar to, but also completely different from Detroit.

Their lips moved together, chaste and soft as they learned each other at first, skin against skin. Gabriel drew back after a moment, and Jack opened his eyes, realizing that he had closed them at some point. Gabriel’s eyes were bright and his skin looked a little more flushed, lips slightly wet and smiling. 

“You’re the asshole,” he said, and Jack couldn’t help but laugh, nearly falling against Gabriel as his body rocked with the force of it. He kissed Gabriel again, open-mouthed this time, and Gabriel met him more than willingly, mouth hot and open, tongue flicking out to taste Jack’s own mouth, coax his tongue into his own. Jack moaned slightly when Gabriel caught his lower lip with his teeth, pulling lightly, and Gabriel chuckled into the kiss. His beard continued to rub against Jack’s face, and he loved it, loved the sensation of it against his skin.

Gabriel’s hands moved from Jack’s face, traveling down Jack’s shoulders to his waist, holding him firmly. Jack kissed up the side of Gabriel’s face to the lower edge of the small bandage around his head, kissing the white cloth that he knew would be gone by tomorrow, or maybe even earlier. He bit the tip of Gabriel’s ear lightly, and Gabriel retaliated by dragging his mouth down Jack’s neck, biting lightly at the skin, discovering a spot just behind the hinge of Jack’s jaw that nearly made his knees buckle when Gabriel sucked harder at it. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Jack whispered, already starting to pant as Gabriel used his grip on Jack’s waist to bring their hips together. Jack kissed him again, moaning into his mouth as they rocked against each other, Jack’s cock beginning to stiffen in his pants from the friction. He could feel Gabriel also starting to harden, one part of his mind rejoicing at the fact that it seemed like Gabriel wanted him just as much, the other part of his mind reminding him of Gabriel’s various injuries. 

Jack pulled back slightly, a soft yelp escaping his mouth as one of Gabriel’s hands snuck from his waist and grabbed his ass, squeezing it slightly. “Wait! Gabe, wait, are we going too fast? Your leg is still broken--” he was cut off as Gabriel pressed in for another kiss, his other hand pulling one of Jack’s hands to Gabriel’s own fantastic ass. Jack hissed into the kiss, couldn’t help but squeeze a handful as Gabriel laughed into his mouth before pulling away himself.

“Jack,” Gabriel said seriously, and Jack stopped, eyes wide on Gabriel’s face, noticing the way his lashes fanned perfectly across his lid, the way his skin seemed burnished in the low light of the practice room. “I just spent two weeks in a hospital bed, not allowed to move or do anything. I’m also a super soldier. Does this look like a cast to you?” He indicated the brace on his leg, which Jack had to admit looked nothing like a conventional cast. “My leg isn’t broken anymore. I’m just supposed to wear this for a day or two while I get used to walking again.” He grabbed Jack’s ass again, hard, grinning at Jack’s surprised moan. “So unless you wanna stop for any other reason, then I’m good to go, sunshine. We’ve been dancing around each other for long enough, don’t you think?”

“So romantic,” Jack deadpanned, a smile breaking over his face at Gabriel’s chuckle. “And you wanna--here?” He looked around a little incredulously. “Not a ton of space to stretch out here, Gabe.”

Gabriel winked at him, and Jack admired the shine of his lips, puffy from kissing. “I think it’s pretty fitting we have our first time in here,” Gabriel said. “Besides, I’ve been thinking about fucking you over that piano for weeks now--”

Jack cut him off with a strangled noise. “We’re not fucking over the piano!” he said incredulously. “We don’t even have lube!”

A shifty look crossed Gabriel’s features, and he pulled a travel medkit from his jacket pocket. “I, uh, might’ve snagged this from the medbay before I left,” he said, “and I’m pretty sure there’s some stuff in here we can use.”

Jack stared at Gabriel, an eyebrow raised. “And why do you have a medkit in your pocket?” he asked, already knowing he probably wasn’t going to like the answer.

“Because I’m happy to see you?” Gabriel tried. Jack continued to look unimpressed. “Alright, fine, it’s because they want me to go back tomorrow for some checkup stuff that I can do perfectly fine on my own, so I took it for that.”

Jack rolled his eyes and his hips, making both of them moan as they rubbed together through their clothes. “Okay,” Jack said, “We can fuck over the piano, but only on the condition that you go back to medbay tomorrow.” 

Gabriel had already started taking off his shirt and unbuckling his pants, but paused to pout at Jack. “Fine,” he said, toeing off his shoes and socks and letting his pants drop. “But I’m going to spend the entire checkup unhappy.”

“Whatever makes you happy, Gabe.”

“Take your pants off. That would make me happy.”

“Can’t even wine and dine me first,” Jack complained, but he stepped out of his pants from where they had fallen to the floor anyway, pulling off his shirt as well. He turned, carefully closing the lid of the piano, melting back into Gabriel’s chest as his arms snaked around him, the skin-on-skin contact intoxicating and electric. Gabriel ground his cloth-covered cock into Jack’s ass, and Jack whined high in his throat, turning his head for a kiss, which Gabriel readily gave while he pulled Jack’s underwear down until Jack could step out of it. He turned Jack in his arms, quickly lifting him up and pressing him back against the piano, the wood of the instrument cool at Jack’s back in direct contrast to the fire of Gabriel’s skin, Gabriel’s hips between his legs, Jack’s bare cock pressed against Gabriel’s through the thin fabric of his underwear. 

They rutted against each other for a moment or two, and Jack could feel his cock leaking slightly, the tip wetting the fabric of Gabriel’s boxers. Gabriel paused, breaking their kiss momentarily to drag the waistband of his underwear down his thighs, his cock slapping thickly against his stomach as it was freed from the confines of the fabric. Jack reached between them, spine bowed, grabbing both of their cocks in one hand and pressing them together even more, the friction both everything he’d ever wanted and simultaneously not enough. 

Gabriel nipped Jack’s lower lip before pulling back slightly to rummage around one-handed in the medkit. Finding the small bottle of medical grade lube, he placed it on the lid of the piano before his hand snaked down Jack’s body, down his hip and palming over the curve of his ass, teasing slightly at the pucker of Jack’s hole. “Still gonna let me fuck you on this piano, Jackie?” Gabriel asked, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Gonna give me something to make this position worthwhile?” Jack teased back, leaning up to kiss Gabriel again, shuddering slightly at the feel of one of Gabriel’s gun-callused fingertips tracing along his rim. Gabriel pushed lightly at the muscle, feeling the give as Jack tensed against him before returning to just petting it. 

“Patience is a virtue, Jack,” he said, the serene veneer of his voice cracking slightly. 

Jack smirked. “Not when I’m getting laid it isn’t,” he replied, arms around Gabriel’s neck as the other man reached for the lube and drizzled some onto his fingertips. They returned to Jack’s hole, one careful finger slicking the outside of the muscle carefully until Jack was relaxed enough for it to push inside. A moan dripped from Jack’s lips as the finger entered him, slow and deliberate and not  _ nearly _ enough.

“Fuck, Gabe, please,” he said, voice strained as Gabriel carefully wiggled the finger around, pressing against the sensitive walls inside of Jack before withdrawing. He added more lube and pushed two fingers in, pumping them in and out of Jack’s body until he was able to take them easily, scissoring inside of Jack to stretch him open. Jack shuddered in Gabriel’s hold, the piano shuddering underneath him as well.

“You’re so tight,” Gabriel said, “Gonna need to stretch you out a lot to take me, fuck, you’re going to feel so good around my cock.”

Jack moaned again, feeling his face and chest flush at Gabriel’s words. “Please,” he panted, “Want to feel you inside me, gonna feel so hot, fuck!”

More lube was drizzled onto Gabriel’s fingers and three pressed inside Jack, careful as Gabriel seemed to search for something, pressing against Jack’s walls until Jack stiffened in his arms, a small spurt of precome bursting from the tip of his cock. Gabriel smiled, pressing against that spot again and again until Jack was writhing against him, moans bursting from his mouth.

“Stop, stop! Fuck, Gabe, stop unless you want this to all be over right now,” Jack cried out, slumping in slight relief as Gabriel withdrew his fingers entirely, drizzling lube over them again before pressing four fingers inside Jack.

“Sorry sweetheart, you just looked so good like that, I just had to keep going,” Gabriel laughed, and Jack glowered and punched him lightly in the arm.

“Asshole.”

“I thought we already established that you’re the asshole here?” Gabriel said, grinning down at Jack before pressing one last time against his prostate just to see Jack squirm.

“Fuck, Gabe! Fuck me already, goddammit,” Jack demanded, dragging Gabriel down for a kiss. Gabriel obliged, hand groping for a condom from the medkit. He froze against Jack as he came up empty.

“Uhh, sorry,” he said apologetically.

Jack glowered at him. “What,” he said, voice flat.

“No condoms,” Gabriel said weakly, and Jack just rolled his eyes.

“Gabe. We are super soldiers. We’ve had so many medical tests and so many chemicals pumped into us that at this point I’m pretty sure it’ll take a superbug to make us sick. So, unless you have any issues with it, go ahead and fuck me bare. I want you to.” He leaned up and kissed Gabriel again, slow and sensual with all the heat he could put into a single kiss. “Fuck me raw, Gabriel,” he whispered into Gabriel’s ear, biting lightly at the shell of it. 

“Fuck, Jackie, you have no idea what you do to me,” Gabriel hissed, grabbing the base of his cock and lining it up to push into Jack slowly. Jack groaned, luxuriating in the feel of Gabriel’s hot cock filling him up, a long press of heat and muscle, slow and relentless until Gabriel was completely buried inside Jack. “So tight,” Gabriel moaned, kissing Jack again and tipping him back farther onto the piano, trying to gain leverage to fuck into him.

Jack braced himself, arms still around Gabriel’s neck, leaning his head back to expose the line of his throat. Gabriel rocked into him, thrusts shallow but hard, Jack’s legs wrapped around his waist so he couldn’t pull out very far. It felt so good, the piano creaking quietly underneath them but holding up to the onslaught as Gabriel pushed in and in, lighting Jack up from the inside out. 

Gabriel kissed him, tongue fucking into Jack’s mouth with the same rhythm as his hips, pressing closer to Jack and nearly folding his body in half on top of the piano. Jack’s hips jerked and stuttered beneath Gabriel’s, the press of Gabriel’s stomach on his cock providing Jack with just enough friction. He groaned, reaching a hand between them to grasp his cock, fisting it hard and fast as Gabriel’s thrusts became increasingly intense, their hips slamming together harder and harder. 

His orgasm washed over him like a wave, spreading to his toes and fingertips as Jack stiffened in Gabriel’s grasp, hand squeezing his erection as he came between them, white ropes of come shooting out onto both of their stomachs. Jack groaned as he felt himself clamp down on Gabriel’s cock inside him, heard Gabriel groan too and keep fucking into him.

“Keep going,” Jack panted, “Want to--wanna feel you come inside me, need to feel it--!” he cut off with a cry as Gabriel struck his over-sensitive prostate, cock twitching in his grasp. He tightened rhythmically around Gabriel, coaxing him to completion, moaning as his body jolted and spasmed with each thrust.

“Fuck, Jack,” Gabriel groaned through gritted teeth, hips stuttering as he thrust hard once, twice, three, and finally four times before pouring himself out into the hot clench of Jack’s body. “God, so fucking good, feel so fucking good,” he said, staring into Jack’s eyes as he came before leaning down and kissing him softly, making Jack’s eyes flutter shut.

Gabriel pulled away from the kiss as his cock softened, pulling out of Jack’s body as well before he stumbled backwards, collapsing into the chair he usually sat in while he played the guitar. Jack sat up, back protesting a little bit, startled. “Are you alright, Gabe?” he asked, worried.

Gabriel waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah,” he said, still panting slightly but with a slight grimace on his face. “Just...might’ve overdone it a little too much.”

“You idiot,” Jack said, grabbing a cleaning wipe from the medkit and ripping it open, wiping down the streaks of drying come on Gabriel’s stomach as well as his own. “You’re lucky I love you so much.”

Gabriel looked up, eyes wide in his face, and Jack reddened slightly as he realized what he’d just said.

“Guess I’m lucky that I love you back just as much,” Gabriel said easily.

\--------------------------

After the omnic crisis ended, Jack and Gabriel got married, were both promoted, and moved halfway across the world all within a month’s time. The wedding was small, private, just their closest friends and family members to commemorate the occasion. Both Jack and Gabriel nearly cried while they read their vows. Reinhardt did actually cry while they had their first dance to what they had come to think of as “their song.” As the final strains of “The Boxer” fell silent on the dancefloor, Jack kissed Gabriel softly. 

“Thank you for sharing your life with me,” he whispered to Gabriel.

“You, too,” Gabriel said, kissing him again.

Overwatch promised to be a new beginning for the world, an elite peacekeeping taskforce that worked with governments across the globe to repair and rebuild from the devastation of the crisis. Thrust suddenly into the limelight of public life, Jack tried to adjust quickly to serving as Strike Commander of the force, though he was less prepared for the endless paperwork and meetings with UN officials than he would have liked. 

As commander of Blackwatch, Gabriel ran countless stealth missions, achieving peace and stability behind the scenes where Overwatch had failed. He was glad that his position kept him mostly out of the public eye; while he had a flair for the dramatic, Gabriel also knew the benefits of keeping his head down and out of sight. Darkness could be friend or foe, and Gabriel knew how to utilize it to complete his goals.

They sometimes went for weeks without seeing each other, out on missions or diplomatic trips, calling each other as often as they could. But whenever one of them came back, they always knew where to find the other. 

It had taken some coaxing and buttering up some key UN officials, but Jack had gotten approved funding for practice rooms stocked with different instruments to be built at each Overwatch base around the world, ostensibly for stress relief. No matter what time of day or night, if either Jack or Gabriel was finally returning from a trip, the other was waiting for them in one of the practices room, the lyrics of “The Boxer” a whisper on their breath.

Gabriel and Jack were careful, but they weren’t careful enough. Things started going wrong--Blackwatch was suddenly in the public eye, evidence of human rights abuses surfacing left and right as information seemed to hemorrhage from the organization. Both Gabriel and Jack became increasingly paranoid, but for vastly different reasons. Gabriel saw enemies everywhere, even inside of Overwatch itself; Jack thought Gabriel was hiding something from him, a terrible secret that could tear them apart if they weren’t careful.

Jack nearly forgot how to play the piano. Gabriel always felt too choked to sing. Constant fear turned their words sharp and harsh against each other, and arguments became their preferred form of conversation.

As it turned out, both Jack and Gabriel were right. Zurich burned on a cold, clear night in January, and for a moment, when he woke up after the explosion, Jack thought he was back in Detroit looking up at the stars through the smoke.

Only, he couldn’t quite see the stars. And the ringing in his ear wouldn’t stop, drowned out the way the fire crackled and popped in the still air. But he could still hear the screams, could still feel the blood running down his face as he stared at the wreckage around him, mind attempting to piece together what had just happened. All he could remember was another fight, another screaming match with Gabriel, and then the floor shaking.

(“You’re too busy covering your own ass to realize that what I’ve been saying for months is true!” Gabriel had screamed. Jack had shifted a pile of paper on his desk, pointedly not looking at his husband.

“And you’re too busy hiding things from me,” he’d tried to say evenly, but the anger still broke through his voice. “How am I supposed to trust you when you won’t even trust me?”)

Jack struggled to his feet in the snow, stumbling once and righting himself on a twisted piece of metal. He couldn’t--he couldn’t find Gabriel, could barely see through the haze of smoke and blood in his eyes, pain in his head flaring as he tried to walk forward. “Gabe?” he screamed, but the wind was howling too loudly, snatched his voice away as he hunted for any sign of his husband. 

Gabriel was gone.

A few weeks later, sitting in a rundown SEP safehouse that no one knew about, the man known as Jack Morrison read his and Gabriel’s obituaries in the newspaper. Turning off the holopad, the man stared at the grimy tabletop beneath him.

Jack Morrison was dead. He was just a soldier now.

\--------------------------

The soldier’s fingers tripped over the piano keys, guided only by the vibrations and a distant memory of a well-loved song. He hummed along brokenly, eyes closed, missing the way the black shadows crept along the walls and into the sunlight, forming into a black-cloaked figure with a bone-white owl mask.

The masked figure raised a shotgun to the back of the soldier’s head.

But before the Reaper could say anything, he caught the flash of a silver band on the soldier’s hand as it picked its way across the piano keys, slow and stumbling but conjuring a melody the Reaper hadn’t heard in years.

The shotgun dissipated into smoke, and the Reaper stepped back, away from the soldier at the piano, taking in his white hair, the slump of his shoulders, still broad and beautiful in their leather jacket. He could see the visor placed to the side, useless against an attack, and the Reaper knew he shouldn’t let this chance slip away from him, should kill the soldier once and for all.

He took off his mask instead.

The words tumbled from his mouth, voice no longer as rich and smooth as it was years ago, but still beautiful in its own scratchy, faded way. 

The soldier stiffened, fingers pausing. Was that just part of the memory, or--? Even as the last note he played faded into the air, the low voice kept going, and the soldier turned around slowly, bringing his visor to his face, not sure if his own mind was playing a trick on him or not. How deep would his mind go, and was he even sure if he wanted to come back out?

Gabriel was standing there, but not the Gabriel from twenty years ago. The soldier could see grey in the hair at his temples, the way smoke curled off him like a blown-out candle. This was the Reaper with Gabriel’s face, mouth open as he sang along to music that was no longer playing. The soldier listened as best he could as the Reaper--no, Gabriel--sang along with the past. He was so achingly beautiful--but he wasn’t the soldier’s anymore. The soldier set his visor back down, watching as Gabriel’s face dissolved into shadows as his vision dimmed.

Finally, Gabriel trailed off, silence falling between the two of them.

“Hello, Jack,” Gabriel said, stepping forward. The soldier shook his head.

“Jack’s been dead for a long time,” he said.

It was Gabriel’s turn to shake his head. “You’ll always be my Jack,” he said. “And I’m still your Gabriel.” He grinned wryly at the old soldier. “Neither of us would be here if those things weren’t true.”

Jack got up from the piano bench, walked over towards Gabriel. He left his visor at the piano, face open and scarred as he took in the blurry shape of his dead husband. “I can’t do this without you, Gabe,” Jack said finally, nearly a whisper.

“Neither can I, Jack,” Gabriel said, offering a clawed hand, palm up. Jack placed his hand in his husband’s for the first time in years. 

“We haven’t fixed anything,” Jack said, a warning in his voice. 

Gabriel shook his head. “Of course not. We both still have a long way to go,” he said. He let his body dissipate into nanites, leaving the abandoned base to return to Talon and plan.

Jack stared at the spot where Gabriel had just been standing, staring at a small piece of paper with a phone number written on it in Gabriel’s cramped writing. He smiled as the final lines of the song drifted through the room, Gabriel’s voice echoing clearly in his ears.

_ I am leaving, I am leaving, but the fighter still remains _ .

**Author's Note:**

> You can also see a (better, less weirdly formatted) version of Shana's beautiful art [HERE!](http://shanablackrx.tumblr.com/post/167314277421/where-the-ragged-people-go-rating-e-pairing)


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